


Make Love To Me

by UnholyPlumpPrincess



Series: Alex's Story [4]
Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Brief mention of Claudette/Wraith, Fluffy, Kissing, M/M, Making Love, Making Out, Mention of scars, Semi-Public Sex, Tentacle Dick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-27 13:35:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21393013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnholyPlumpPrincess/pseuds/UnholyPlumpPrincess
Summary: Following my Dead By Daylight series with someone's OC named Alex: This one takes part after the previous one with The Ghost.---The Entity, from afar, watches as his fighting spirit dims and begins to plant the seeds inside of him while Alex sleeps. Just subtle nudges, whispers that he could make a perfect killing machine with his speeds, that the others don’t really care for him, not like The Entity’s killers do. Wouldn’t he like that?Alex tries to shake the whispers. He blames them on nightmares and his own self-doubt after his last match. He doesn’t feel the seeds in his chest have been sown.
Relationships: Philip Ojomo | The Wraith/Original Character(s), Philip Ojomo | The Wraith/Original Male Character(s)
Series: Alex's Story [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1563280
Comments: 6
Kudos: 34





	Make Love To Me

**Author's Note:**

> IF you wanna see more of my work or commission me or even donate, see me on tumblr @Sinningplumpprincess

The events with Ghostface had put Alex in a new mood that other survivors couldn’t quite understand. Alex was ever willing during it, enjoyed it, but something about the whole carving into his skin struck him differently. When he got back to camp and ignored the questioning from his teammates, he went to the showers and could catch his reflection. The scabbed over ‘Call me! Xoxo’ with the jagged lettering made him run his finger over it, only hissing softly to the burn it brought with the pain. 

Normally times with the killers brought him, well, sexual joy, really. However, he couldn’t stop thinking. He was finally caught, hooked- something he was infamous for, even if he did cheat a little to avoid being hooked. Alex couldn’t shake it that he now owned the same scar on his shoulder and chest, pierced right through, like the other survivors. 

It almost made him feel...like giving up. 

Though, he cared for his fellow survivors and their well beings, something just rubbed him the wrong way on everything about the scenario. Being caught finally made him worthless- didn't it? It felt almost that way, that the reason he could spread his legs and be oh so willing was a trade between him and killers. But, why not be hooked now? He’d already been hooked. 

The Entity, from afar, watches as his fighting spirit dims and begins to plant the seeds inside of him while Alex sleeps. Just subtle nudges, whispers that he could make a perfect killing machine with his speeds, that the others don’t really care for him, not like The Entity’s killers do. Wouldn’t he like that? 

Alex tries to shake the whispers. He blames them on nightmares and his own self-doubt after his last match. He doesn’t feel the seeds in his chest have been sown. 

The next few matches he’s a part of, he’s not quite on his A game. Alex still is fast, avoiding the next group of killers he faces. The doctor, the Huntress, and the Nurse. The Nurse manages to nick him with her teleportation ability, and for the most part Alex is fine with that. Until he thinks too hard about how he wasn’t thinking clearly in the moment. 

It starts to put some distance on him and the other survivors. He doesn’t sit out at the bonfires, he doesn’t playfully bump hips with them in the cabin, he seems to pull back. Like he wants to become a ghost. 

Maybe he does. Maybe he just needs one little thing that will make him snap. 

Little does he know, this new match he is put into will be just that little push he needed. 

When he’s allowed to make awareness of his surroundings, Alex is immediately cold. The snow on the map of Ormond wasn’t as freezing as it would be out of the Entity’s realm, but it does still send a chill down his spine. His breath comes out in a fog as his eyes take in the surroundings, carefully walking to the cover of a rock as he takes in everything. Waiting to see a sign of who it could be. Any traps lying about, any contraptions resting about with giggles emitting from them, maybe even the rev of a chainsaw. 

It’s silent, and that alone sends a chill up his spine. Not even a heartbeat. There were a few known killers who could be silent. The Shape, The Wraith, and... 

He swallows, stretching his neck out in a slow roll to shake off the last thought. He wouldn’t finish it. Alex could allow himself that. Not as if he didn’t wake up in pleasant sweat thinking back to being tied up and wrecked, but it was also the day he began to feel helpless in a way. 

Shaking his head, Alex forces himself to focus on the match. That much he could do. 

Pushing from the rock, his legs almost shake before he can get himself pushed. Darting to the closest generator outside near the hill and finding Meg dutifully already working on it once he approaches. The sounds of the popping pistons and the generator starting to spark already sounding promising by the time he makes it. 

There are no words exchanged, just a quick nod of heads, mutual agreement, and getting to work. Only a brief murmur of, ‘Who?’ from Meg and a shake of the head from Alex in return. He didn’t know who. And he didn’t see any of their teammates either besides her. 

They get halfway on it when Meg’s head suddenly perks up, eyes shooting around. She felt watched, and Alex’s fuck up is pausing with her, hands slipping off and suddenly signaling a spark through the generator through the wiring he was working on. The generator jolts, making a loud bang sound with the sudden jolt running through it just as they both hear the sound of a bell ringing and the whoosh of the wind to signal the killer had been uncloaked. 

“Shit!” Meg shouts, scurrying to zip in the other direction, being farther from the side that the Wraith was approaching. Alex is right behind her, but he does what he does best. Takes them off guard. 

He runs at the Wraith, catching his trot off guard when he whips around to try and take a slash at Alex. He misses, the sound of air whizzing past his shoulder making Alex’s adrenaline pulse in his very veins as he takes off running. Leg muscles already aching before they could even get to the good part. Yet, there’s something even that the Wraith could take into account. Normally when facing off against this particular survivor, he had something cocky to say. A giggle right behind it. Even the Wraith could take into account that the challenge was fun. 

Yet, he was no longer ‘the holy grail’ for the Entity. Not in the same way. Alex was a caught survivor just like the rest of them. With just one hook under his belt, but enough to rip the wind out from under Alex’s feet. Something even the killer could tell from the way Alex merely runs. No chase to it, no taunting words, no ‘hey’s. He just...goes. 

Being more of an empathetic voice of reasoning, the Wraith finds himself almost worrying about this once feisty little survivor. Of course, word gathers around quick, let alone photos of the Ghost waving around his prettiest new photos. The Wraith had frowned upon the Ghost for mocking the survivor in his grasp, making it known that he thought that the Ghost should have been more thankful to be ALLOWED a pleasure in his match. So far as going to smack him with his own photos with a huff through his nose. 

Perhaps this empathy would be his own downfall as the Wraith cloaks himself and begins his hunt. 

Alex is still just as quick, but begins to lose his pacing soon enough as doubt wells up in his chest again. Why not just be caught? Why not just let himself have a break for once instead of always being one foot ahead? He’s panting with the effort, not focusing on his breathing and keeping his pacing in check with each exhale. His sprint beginning to fall to a trot until he hears the bell behind him and a soft groan leaves his throat, resting himself on the wall in front of him. 

His back rests to the wooden planks behind him of the resort, heart pounding and throat burning from the cold air. He looks up to see the cloak falling from the predator before him and offers one side of his lips to quirk up in an infamous crooked smile. “Ya’ caught me.” A little bit of playfulness to his tone as his head tilts back, looking to the dark sky as he lets out and in shaky breaths. 

He waits for the blow to come, or to be scooped up and dutifully carried off. When neither pain nor grabbing hands come, he finally gets his breath to slow, dropping his gaze down from the sky to look at the Wraith’s face. His pupils are bright white, hard to see with the snow around him, but the darkness of his sclera make it painfully obviously that the Wraith is looking directly at him. Alex is sure if the killer had eyebrows, they would be knitted in worry. 

Claudette had said something about the Wraith- he'd been one of the originals since they’d gotten there. The first few trials they’d had with him in the past, it almost seemed like he wasn’t all too sure how he was supposed to be hunting them. The same way they weren’t sure how to survive against killers. Yet, someone such as The Trapper seemed a natural killer. The Wraith? Not so much. 

And at some points, you could even befriend someone like him. Claudette had shyly mentioned spending a trial with him once. 

There’s only silence between them as the Wraith seems to be deciding his options as well. It’s when Alex shakily exhales and offers a tired, small smile that the Wraith moves, tilting his head. Only to hear him ask so gently, “I hear you’re nice... In general and to be with,” He starts softly, as if the soft whistling wind could carry his voice to his teammates. “Could you show me? If you still want to hook me after- that's fine. Just...” 

His eyes almost well up with tears, but he simply blames it on the piercing cold wind brushing by them. Watching as the killer approaches him with small footsteps, not rushed until a bandaged hand can rest upon his shaking shoulder. 

The hand on his shoulder soon slides up his neck. It’s almost as cold as the snow around them, Alex is sure. Yet, he still leans his head to the side, exposing his throat and allowing the long fingers to trail up his warm flesh. Tracing fingertips up along his sharp jawline and soon brushing fingers over his warm, soft lips. His breath comes out in a shake, feeling his own breath warm the Wraith’s fingertips that seem almost shy in a way as they caress him. Alex can’t help himself, pressing a kiss to the digit closest to his lips and peeking open his eyes to be half lidded, peering up at the Wraith under his lashes. 

The Wraith’s lips that never seem to frown nor smile, softly part a bit, as if aroused by the simple breath from Alex. It boosts his ego a little, if he’s honest, but his eyes look at how soft and full that the Wraith’s lips look and he forgets. Not to mention the sharpness of teeth he’s showing underneath- fuck. 

There’s a grunt from the taller figure as he moves his hand just as slow back down Alex’s neck. Gently wrapping long fingers around his arm and guiding him more towards the inside of the building behind him. Alex follows obediently, allowing himself to be pulled until he’s more towards the center of the room where the circular fire pit was. 

It’s warm in here, away from prying eyes and the whistles of the winds outside, not to mention the nip at his nose. Alex’s breath still comes out shaky, but now for different reasons as the Wraith sits down at the top of the few steps leading down to the pit. Slowly guiding Alex down with him until Alex could rest himself down next to the killer, being guided to lie back into his lap. Soon, he’s resting with his head on the bandaged thighs, eyes fluttering softly. 

The Wraith’s features are soft and curious as one hand gently cradles Alex’s eyes to play with his hair softly. It’s so gentle he might cry, even as the Wraith’s other hand gently plays with the bottom of his shirt. “You have my consent.” He murmurs, almost laughing at how it sounds from his lips to be giving explicit permission out loud. When white pupils turn to him and eyes kindly narrow in reply to his verbal response, his shirt is gently tugged on as well as his jacket until he sits up briefly to remove them. Lying his head back down in the Wraith’s lap and nearly whining when he hears the pleased, deep hum above him. 

Fingers gently play with his hair, stroking back his fringe with such softness that he wills his eyes to close. His breath hitches when he feels the free hand soon begin to trace one finger down his throat, over his Adam’s apple and down to his clavicle. Tracing over the shape of his chest and resting a palm over his beating heart. 

Alex has to pause, biting onto his bottom lip as he stifles a pleased sigh when fingers gently begin to pluck at his nipples. Rolling the left one softly and thumbing at it before repeating the same motions to the other. Over sensitive from proper stimulus, his hips push up, only for the hand in his hair to gently give a small tug. Good boy, he feels is what it says, as if giving him a soft tug to tell him it was alright. 

For once, Alex doesn’t feel the need to be showy or cry out, be as loud as he could. His voice is a soft shake holding on a whine as he turns his head to press his face almost to the flat abdomen of the Wraith. The hand in his hair gently strokes the side of his head, brushing hair behind his ear as that curious other hand plays with his nipples. Never pinching too hard, just gently molding him until he’s half hard in his pants and rolling them up into nothing. 

There’s such softness even in the way the Wraith gently asks for his pants to be off. A single finger trailing along the seam and then back up to the waistband. Once more to gently grope at him when Alex’s hips go up, and then back to his waistband. ‘May I?’ is not spoken, not even uttered, but his head nods by the third brush of his waistband once he gets what the Wraith wants. Consent. 

A gentle pull and some help from Alex, the rest of his clothing is kicked off. Once he’s rested again, the hand goes back in his hair, now playing more with the hair at his nape as his voice is muffled into a whine against the Wraith’s abdomen. Chilled fingers wrap around his cock, stroking him from base to tip in one solid pump and smearing the pre-cum there at the head with his thumb. Then repeating. Never going too fast, never speeding up, just giving a moderate pace that has Alex’s muscles tensing and his lips parting in panted out breaths. 

On his cheek he can feel the Wraith hardening under his shorts and bandages, though almost a squishy surface to rest on. There’s no push to suck him off, no tug of hair so the Wraith could fulfill his own needs. Instead, Alex peeks up, catching how the killer’s lips are parted in soft breaths that come out foggy in this air. Seeing how his eyes are focused on how his hand pumps Alex’s cock, trailing up and over his body until Alex is watching through slits in his eyes as to not startle him. Being able to see how the Wraith’s eyes finally settle on Alex’s face and the corners of his lips quirk up. 

Alex’s heart skips about two beats at the motion. 

The tenderness, the softness of everything, the firm yet slow tugs on his cock finally do it all for him. He doesn’t cry out, doesn’t moan, doesn’t make a show. Instead, Alex’s mouth opens and he lets out a sharp gasp, hips stuttering as he cums into the awaiting palm at the head of his cock. The hand in his hair strokes him much like a puppy, brushing his fringe back and scooping back behind his ears in little pets. 

‘Good boy’, he can practically hear, ‘Such a good boy’. 

\-- 

How he ends up in the Wraith’s lap with two fingers lodged inside of him with his saliva as lube is a blurry and slow work up. His arms drape over the cloaked shoulders in front of him, his head having fallen forward only to be caught with the Wraith’s forehead. Pressed intimately close as the long fingers quirk and scissor inside of him to stretch him out. 

The Wraith- no, this was far too intimate to keep calling him that- Philip. 

Philip’s cock turned out not to be a cock- not a human one at least. Hence why the squishier sensation he felt earlier. No, it’s this black, slimy looking tentacle. Thick at the base and thinning out towards the tip while the prehensile appendage wraps around Alex’s cock almost adoringly. Giving it soft squeezes and teasing the head with little brushes and the tip sliding over the slit of Alex’s cock. The slimy substance feels more like a runny lubricant, slippery and leaving a transparent, dark hue across where it touches. 

It had to be the length of his forearm in total, big enough to wind around his cock a few times and still have room to squeeze and play. Philip seems to be enjoying the motions too, if the way his throat makes appreciative grunt noises and his eyes flutter is any indicator. Alex thinks it’s cute, especially the way that Philip can’t make eye contact and doesn’t let himself get caught in his own pleasure. 

Alex’s lips part in a soft gasp when his prostate is pressed on by curious fingers, his hips lurching forward in response and finding that Philip chases his motion immediately. His free hand now coming to rest on Alex’s bare hip and stroking the dip there with his thumb utmost adoringly as if to settle him down. It’s incredibly sweet, bringing tears to Alex’s eyes whether from the new attention to his prostate or to the tenderness of the affection is anyone’s guess. 

There’s even a softness when Philip pulls his fingers out after making Alex cum a second time. Alex is shaking in his lap with his own cock being milked by the prehensile dick it’s encapsulated in. It should be freaky, should feel strange, but all he can do is look down and pant and watch how this tentacle moves and looks so good freckled in the white of his own cum. 

“Fuck...” Alex breathes it out so soft that it’s hardly caught. But Philip catches it, offering a gentle squeeze of his hip and this little noise in the back of his throat similar to a gruff grunt that makes Alex smile. Oh, he’s pleasure-drunk on all of this, head moving from Philip’s so he can rest himself into the crook of his neck and hug onto the man. 

There’s a bit of adjusting and some unwrapping to do around Alex’s cock before he feels the slimy, thin tip curl around his hole. There are two now dry hands on his hips, gently urging him down into the flexible press of Philip’s tendril until they can move together to press it inside. An audible, shake of a growl surges from Philip as Alex begins to sink down. It’s a delicious sensation, unlike anything he’s ever felt as this- as this tentacle begins to curl and press into him. Twisting in ways that should be a sin in itself. 

Alex’s eyes are tearing up from the pleasure of it doubling back on itself and then flattening back out to fit its whole girth inside of him. The rim is stretched full by the time he reaches Philip’s hips, feeling the tendril twisting inside of him and pressing to the flat of his abdomen. He just has to see, pulling back briefly from Philip to look down to see the bulge forming there, moving on its own. It’s hypnotic in a way, making his jaw drop open until a gentle hand scoops under his chin and makes him look up at Philip. 

There’s this moment before it happens. Philip’s eyes look down to Alex’s lips at least three times before a low whine builds in Alex’s throat. Reaching up to cup his cheeks in turn and pulling the killer down to him so their lips can meld together. 

From there it’s soft kisses and the warmth of the fire licking at Alex’s flesh. The soft pull and push of Philip’s hand on his hip to guide him into a grinding rhythm where he can only pull off Philip’s cock so much before he’s eagerly pulled back down. Philip’s lips are soft despite the hard appearance of the mask-like face, teeth sharp when Alex licks into his mouth in curiosity just to feel over his cold tongue and the points of his teeth. Philip doesn’t make much noise, soft hums and grunts seeming to be all he could make, and Alex doesn’t mind. 

Distinctly he hears a few generators popping off but can’t be bothered to pull his head away to see who it could have been. Instead, finding his pleasure peaking with a distinct overlapping sensation inside of him as Philip’s prehensile dick curls back and folds in on itself before lunging back deep inside. 

They part from the kiss with both lips still parted and a sliver of saliva stuck between them. Alex cries out upon his third orgasm, body tensing and cock jerking up onto his abdomen beautifully. Cumming in splatters across Philip’s bandaged abdomen just as Philip’s voice stutters in the back of his throat before echoing out as a growl. He cums inside of Alex, this soothing lukewarm feeling filling him with the thick, black cum inside of him. 

As they begin to come down together, Alex can’t help but nose at Philip’s jaw, smiling when he gets a soft hum in reply and a kiss to his cheek. “I think that’s the first time someone’s been so gentle.” He starts, his voice sluggish and happy. He catches the way that his scar is thumbed over on his lower hip, feeling Philip make a curious noise as if he’s finally noticing it says something. “Parting gift from the Ghost. First time was with the Trapper- he wasn’t so gentle either.” The noise from Philip is soft, understanding, but almost...angry without trying to say he was. 

With another soft kiss and a cheeky grind in Philip’s lap that makes him gently squeeze Alex’s ass, the last generator goes off and they must part. 

Alex is sent off with cum still inside of him and his clothes helped back on. A warm kiss pressed to his forehead and a gentle pat to his ass and he’s happily waddling towards the exit. With one look back at Philip who urges him from the snow to proceed as Alex blows a kiss his way and the killer can’t help but smile. 

Now to deal with Evan... 

\-- 

In the killer’s realm, their worlds merge into one big area. They verge off into fogs so they may enter their own realms for ease, but the Entity allows them to mingle without games happening. The Wraith hunts the Trapper with much vigor, finding him lounging about in his own realm with his mask off in his lap. The bell of the Wraith decloaking is the warning received just as the Trapper looks up at him and quirks an eyebrow in questions on his scarred face. 

“Somethin’ on your mind?” His own voice projects into the Wraith’s mind who frowns intensely at him, trying to make hand motions that make sense. When that doesn’t convey what he means, the Wraith sighs, forming a circle with one hand and inserting a finger crudely. THAT seems to get the Trapper’s attention, eyebrows coming up and sitting up far too quickly. “The BRAT?! You boned my PROPERTY?” His voice a shout and a snarl in the Wraith’s mind without his lips moving. He’s pushing up off his seat, only to get nimble fingers on his chest, hands flat and holding him back softly. 

A shake of Wraith’s head makes him settle down briefly. Face confused as the Wraith gently cups under his jaw, guiding his head forward so they may rest foreheads together. The only way the Wraith could communicate- memories of the match flooding into the Trapper’s mind, able to see the softness, able to see how sweet and...soft Alex looked. 

How defeated he’d sounded. 

How...he had a scar on his hip- not something from the Trapper. Alex says it later- the Ghost. And then mentions his own name and guilt flickers through his heart. 

Rough. The Trapper thought he liked it rough, he certainly had been loud underneath him. Had been begging and pleading all pretty. Been a mouthy little thing. And yet, he never stopped to wonder... 

As the Wraith pulls back, his eyes open to see the Trapper’s eyes flickering at the ground. Just in time for him to smack the Trapper upside the head with the flat of his palm and make a ‘come on!’ motion with his arms. The Trapper immediately flinches, taking a step back and hands coming up as a defensive as his voice resounds back into the Wraith’s mind. “Okay! Yeah- okay yer’ right! I understand! Sheesh- hey OW WHAT WAS THAT FOR!” Shouting once again when his head is smacked again. 

This time, the Wraith shrugs, offering a tap of an A twice on the side of his own head. ‘Asshole’, then pointing at the Trapper who huffs in turn and grumbles. 

Yeah. Yeah maybe he was... 

Time to ask the ole’ Entity for a little favor.


End file.
